


The Hunter's End

by heycasbutt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Gen, M/M, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heycasbutt/pseuds/heycasbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas get attacked by demons while Sam is out. Dean is badly injured, and Cas, who has been kicked out of Heaven, can't save him. Will he survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Introduction  
“Demons,” Dean said under his breath. “Demons!”  
He and Cas jumped up. Dean ran to get salt and Ruby’s knife, and Cas stayed where he was, ready to brace whatever impact might burst through the door of their motel room.  
“Hell of a time for Sam to go on a supply run,” Dean muttered, pouring salt in the entrance to the room. He finished there and moved to the window.   
He jumped when he pulled back the curtains.  
“Shit!”  
CRASH!  
The window was blown in, and the demons were inside. Dean was cast across the room, landing haphazardly on a table, breaking it upon impact. Broken glass sprayed at him from the broken window, cutting his face. He put his hands up to do what he could to shield himself.  
“The hunter and his fallen angel,” one demon mocked. “Not so tough after all, I see.”  
“How’s the sex?” another demon asked. “Better or worse upon Cassie’s decent from heaven? Has he lost the spark?”  
“Shut up!” Castiel shouted. He ran at the demons, ready to attack, but was cast backwards. He hit the wall hard – leaving a dent – and fell to the ground face first.  
“Let’s get down to business,” a third demon said. “We’re here on behalf of your favorite person.”  
“We’re here to collect something valuable to him.” A fourth.  
“So. Where’re ya’ hidin’ Sammy?” Yet another voice.  
“Sorry,” Dean said in a joking tone. “Sammy’s not here right now. Feel free to leave a message after the ‘beep.’”  
The demons didn’t like Dean’s remark. All at once, they ran at him, all throwing punches, kicks, and whatever else they could to physically hurt Dean.  
“Cas!” Dean sputtered. “Cas – help – Ca – “  
Cas mustered up his strength and got up. With what little grace he had left, he expelled the demons. The five vessels, now empty of the demonic presence, fell to the ground – dead.  
Cas fell over onto all fours. His nose was bleeding, and all of his strength had left him. He was breathing heavily, and every part of his body was in pain. He looked up. Dean was slumped over against the wall. His face was broken, his arms were twisted into an inhuman position, and one of his legs was pointing in the wrong direction. Cas got up, quicker than he thought he could, and stumbled over to Dean, falling down at his side.

 

“DEAN!”  
Dean could hear yelling in the distance. Or maybe it wasn’t that distant…He couldn’t tell. He was close to blacking out, and someone was yelling for him. Desperately yelling. He didn’t know who, and he didn’t know why. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t see, and his hearing was almost gone.  
“DEAN! NO!”  
Dean slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing he heard echoing in his head.  
“Dean. Please, God. Not Dean, not now.”

-

“Jesus, Cas. What happened?”   
Sam had walked into a mess. Books, broken glass, and other assorted debris were scattered throughout their already-shitty motel room, making it hard to walk. He kicked some things out of the way, examining the situation. When he looked up, Cas was crouched over, holding something close to him. A person.  
“Cas? What the….Who is that?” Sam asked, not really waning to hear the answer that he knew was about to come.   
“I tried, Sam. I tried to save him. I couldn't. They were too powerful…too many…I…” Cas’s voice changed from talking to sobs in an instant. Dean was gone.  
“No,” Sam said. He was on the verge of tears. “Please, no.”  
“I am so sorry, Sam,” Cas said, looking up at Sam, revealing a broken and bruised Dean. Sam ran over, practically tripping over the debris in his way.   
“No!” he yelled, kneeling on broken glass and taking Dean’s limp body into his arms. “Dean! Wake up! Wake up, buddy, please…”   
Cas couldn't stand the sight of Sam shaking Dean’s body in hopes he’d wake up. He knew Dean would be gone soon, if he wasn't already. Too much damage had been done this time; there was nothing he could do.  
Sam looked up at Cas, who had stood and backed away a little.  
“Why can’t you do something?!” Sam asked through sobs. “You’re an angel of the goddamn Lord, just DO SOMETHING! PLEASE!”  
Cas just looked at Sam, tears running down his face. Cas had never cried before, and he didn't like the feeling. The tears were warm and wet, and they stained his face with a sadness that wouldn't wipe away with the salty water that poured from his eyes.  
“I -- I can’t – “ Cas tried, but couldn't get out a whole sentence.  
“This is Dean we’re talking about,” Sam said, checking Dean’s pulse. He nodded, wiping his face. “He’s still got a pulse. As long as his heart is still beating, there’s hope, right?”  
Cas replied with a nod, even though he knew the truth was just the opposite of hope.  
“We need to get him to a hospital,” Sam said, lifting Dean’s body and standing up. He hurried towards the door, making sure not to trip on anything. He didn't want to hurt Dean more than he was already. “As long as he’s still breathing, there’s something they can do for him.”  
Cas was already sitting in the back seat of the Impala when Sam managed to get through the door. He opened the door from the inside, allowing Sam to place Dean’s body on the seat next to him, laying his head on Cas’s lap.   
The closest hospital was over two hours’ drive from the motel they were at. Cas stayed in the same position the entire ride, with Dean’s head resting in his lap. His left hand cupped the side of Dean’s face, stroking his hair. Every few seconds, Sam would look in the rearview mirror at his brother and Cas, making sure Dean was still breathing as well as trying to figure everything out.   
“Cas,” Sam said. He could tell he had startled Cas, who had jerked his head up quickly and let out a long sigh. The two made eye contact through the rear view mirror.   
“What happened back there?” Sam choked out.   
“I don’t know,” Cas said quietly. “One moment, Dean and I were having a conversation, and the next, we were being attacked by demons.”  
“Demons?” Sam asked. “How’d they find you?”  
“I don’t know, Sam, they’re demons. They are conniving bastards, and they have connections who may have told them where we were.”  
Sam nodded. He was surprised at the amount of snap in Cas’s voice. Cas never snapped, not to Sam and especially not to Dean. Cas resumed his previous position, hand on Dean’s face, starting at the hunter with tears in his eyes.   
Those damn tears again. They were streaming down Cas’s face again, falling from his cheeks and landing on the side of Dean’s bruised face. Cas bent down over the limp man, touching his forehead to Dean’s swollen temple, whispering quiet apologies over and over again.  
“I love you. I shouldn’t have let this happen. I am so, so sorry, Dean. Forgive me, I have failed you.”

-

Dean slowly opened his eyes. He was in a room. A white room. Everything was white: the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the door – everything.  
He brought his hands up to cover his eyes. The brightness of the room was making his already-throbbing head feel as if it were about to explode.  
‘Walls would look better blood red than white anyway,’ Dean thought, imagining his head actually exploding. He took his hands away from his eyes and slowly sat up.  
“Dean,” a voice said. It was a familiar voice. It was one Dean remembered this voice, though he had not heard it in years. He turned around quickly, and what he saw confirmed his suspicion.  
“Mom,” he said under his breath. He sprang up, running and tackling Mary Winchester with a hug. “I missed you,” he whispered, holding back tears.  
“I’ve missed you too, baby,” Mary whispered back, running her hands through her son’s hair. She pulled away from the hug, holding Dean at a length, as if examining him.  
“It’s not your time,” she told him. “You need to wake up.”  
“I just woke up,” Dean said. “I don’t want to go, not yet.”  
“Dean, sweet heart, wake up,” Mary cooed. “Wake up, please, wake up.”  
Mary began to fade.   
“Mom!” Dean yelled, watching his mother disappear. “MOM!”  
“Wake up, Dean. Please, wake up. I’m sorry, Dean, please wake up, I love you.”  
Dean collapsed, falling back into dreamless unconsciousness.

-

“I love you, Dean. Please, wake up. Please.”  
Sam listened as Cas whispered apologies to Dean through choked sobs. He had never seen anyone so upset at anything as Cas was right now. It broke Sam’s heart to see the angel like this – so sad and so vulnerable.  
Almost two hours later, Sam finally pulled into the parking lot to the hospital. He quickly got out and opened the door to the back seat, pulling Dean’s lifeless body from it. Cas got out from the other side, and they walked as fast as Sam could while supporting Dean up to the emergency entrance.  
“Someone help!” Sam yelled. “We need help! Someone!”  
Two nurses, an assistant pulling a gurney, and two trauma doctors came running at Sam’s yells. Everything seemed to have happened at once; Dean was taken from Sam’s arms and put on the gurney, Sam and Cas were told to sit in the waiting room, and Dean was whisked off through double doors that said “emergency personnel only.”  
“Dean! NO!” Cas yelled after the team of professionals. Sam had to physically hold Cas back from running after them.  
“I have to be with him! I have to! I let this happen, I can’t let him die!”  
People were starting. Hospital attendants were giving them curious looks.  
“It’s gonna be okay, Cas, come on.”   
Sam led a distraught Cas into the waiting room, and they both took seats. They were the only two people there. Cas sat down hard, doubling over in his chair, his body racking with heavy sobs. Sam put an arm around him, rubbing it back and forth, quietly saying comforting words that he knew weren’t helping at all. He was starting to wonder if his words were to reassure Cas or himself at this point. He honestly didn’t know if anything could be done for Dean, or if any of the things he was saying would be true.   
After about an hour, Cas had finally calmed down a bit. He was no longer sobbing uncontrollably; he was now crying silently, tears falling down his face with no noise. His face was swollen from crying, and his eyes were bloodshot.   
It was almost three in the morning now. Sam and Cas were in the waiting room for almost eight hours before someone finally came out of the double doors. Both the men stood up, waiting anxiously for news, hoping for the best, yet expecting the worst.  
“Doc?” Sam said. It was more of a question than a greeting. “How is he?”  
“He will pull through,” the doctor started. Sam smiled a sad smile, and Cas’s face lit up.   
“But?” Sam said. There was always a ‘but.’  
“But,” the doctor continued, “it will not be right away. He has suffered a severe blow to the head, causing bleeds all over the place. He has four broken ribs, both arms were twisted out of place, his jaw is broken, his cheek and skull are fractured, and his leg was broken. He is lucky, though, as far as extent goes. One of his ribs could have easily punctured his lung if he had been moved the wrong way.” The doctor paused. “He is stable now, though, although there is some speculation as to whether or not he will wake up.”  
Cas’s face dropped. All the color instantly drained from his cheeks, and new tears were forming in his eyes.  
“I can let you see him,” the doctor said. “You can stay here overnight if you want.”  
Sam nodded. “Thank you,” he said. The doctor gave a sad smile.   
“Follow me.”

-

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.  
Dean opened his eyes again.   
‘What the fuck is that beeping?’ he thought. ‘Sounds like a hospital.’   
He was still in the same white room. He sighed. At least his headache was getting a little better.  
“Dean.”  
It was a different voice this time. It was a man’s voice.  
Again, Dean got up, quickly looking around to find the source of the voice.  
“Dad,” Dean whispered. “I never thought I’d see you again.” He walked over, on the verge of tears, and wrapped his father into a tight hug. Smiling, his father hugged him back, patting his back affectionately.  
“What’s going on, Dad? What happened?” Dean asked, letting go of his father.  
“You mean with me or with you?” John asked, smiling sadly.   
“Seriously,” Dean said, smiling back. “What’s happening to me?” His smile faded, and his face changed from happy to scared.  
“Dean,” John said quietly. “I know I have failed you. It was my job to protect you, and look where you are. On your death bed. I gave everything for you, and now you’re dying.”  
“What’re you – “  
“I am so, so sorry, Dean, just please, do me one last favor. Wake up. Please, wake up.”  
“Dad?”  
John Winchester disappeared, and Dean started feeling faint again. He felt the odd presence of a hand in his, even though he was now the only one in the room.   
“Please, Dean. Wake up. For me.”  
The voice was now distant, fading more and more with each passing second. Accepting the fact that he was clearly going insane, Dean collapsed into another coma, hitting the floor hard as he fell.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam hadn’t noticed he’d been dozing off. From the other side of the room, he heard a voice.  
“Sam,” Cas said. Sam looked up, clearly startled by the break in the silence of the room.  
“You should go get some sleep. I’ll stay with him for a while.”  
Sam nodded, getting up from the chair next to Dean’s bed and walking over to the couch at the opposite side of the room. The man collapsed down onto it, immediately falling into a deep slumber. The couch was far too small for a man Sam’s size, and he was practically on the ground.  
Cas sat down in the chair that Sam had previously occupied. He leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs and his forearms resting on his knees. He scooted the chair forward a little so he could reach Dean’s bed from the position he was sitting in. He reached out and took one of Dean’s hands in his own.  
Dean’s hands were calloused and rough: the hands of a man who has used them all his life. The hands of a man who fixes cars and gets into bar fights. The hands of the man that Cas cared most for in the world. Dean Winchester’s hands.  
“If you can hear me in there,” Cas started. He paused, not knowing how to continue. He wasn’t even sure if Dean could hear him.  
“I had a direct order to protect you at all costs when we first met. You were an important part in the end of the world, you know.”  
Cas stopped. He couldn’t believe how stupid he sounded to himself.  
“We have been friends for…three years. I have come to accept you, even though I know you’re violent and a drunk…”  
‘Not those words, Cas,’ Cas thought to himself. ‘Say anything BUT something hurtful.’  
“I, uh, fell, Dean. I fell from heaven. Again. I have no power left, and if I did I could…” his voice trailed off, and he furiously blinked back tears. “I could have saved you.”  
Cas stopped talking. He wiped the stray tears from his cheek with the back of Dean’s hand. He didn’t want to let go. The physical contact with Dean comforted him, as if it was a sign of hope that he might one day return to them.

Eight hours later, Sam woke up. He awoke in the same, awkward position he’d fallen asleep in, and as he tried to stand, his body cracked and popped in every place imaginable, making him cringe from the pain.  
Cas was sitting in the chair next to Dean’s bed, holding Dean’s hand in both of his own. He had fallen asleep sitting up, his head rolled back against the top of his back. Sam shook him awake.  
“Go lie down, Cas,” Sam told him, motioning towards the couch he had recently vacated. Cas nodded and obliged, drowsily walking over to the couch and collapsing down on it. He was snoring before his head hit the cushion.  
Sam took back his seat in the chair. He leaned back, one leg extended underneath the hospital bed. He sighed, wondering if his older brother would ever wake up.  
“Hey, Dean,” he said. “I dunno if you can hear me or not, but if you can, listen up…”

-

“No need to worry. I am sure he will be okay, but it might take some time.”  
More distant sounds. More of the same white room.  
‘God Damnit,’ Dean thought. He was getting sick of this falling in and out of dream land.  
On the plus side, his headache was almost gone now.  
“I dunno if you can hear me or not, but if you can, listen up.”  
“Sam?” Dean called. “Sam, that you?”  
“I need you to make it through this, Dean. I can’t lose you again. Remember that time I had to watch you die a thousand times? Or the time I had to watch you get dragged into Hell? Or the time…”  
There was a minute of silence around Dean, suffocating him like he was being drowned.  
“I can’t watch you die again, man. And I don’t think Cas is really up to it, either.”  
“Cas? Cas is there, too?” Dean called. No answer.  
“Please, Dean. Just wake up. You can do it, man, I know you can pull through this. Just…when you’re ready, wake up. We’ll be here.”  
Dean threw his hands up to his temples, almost sobbing. He dropped to his knees.  
‘What the fuck is going on?!’ he thought. ‘Am I dead? WHAT IS HAPPENNING?  
“Oh, God, no,” he cried. “Why me, man? Why is it always me?”  
As if he was expecting an answer, he looked upward into the vast whitened of his surroundings.  
“COME ON, YOU BASTARD! WHY ME, HUH? WHY THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME DEAD?”  
With that, he collapsed again, landing on his wrist when he fell.

-

Sam had dozed off again. When he awoke, he found Cas just waking up and a doctor in the room with them. The doctor was checking Dean’s vitals, writing things down on his clipboard. He wore an impressed expression on his face.  
“Any change, doc?” Sam asked.  
“Actually, yes. Your brother is making progress. His brain activity has increased, and his vitals are normal now. We removed the breathing tube, and he is breathing fine on his own.”  
A wide smile crept its way across Sam’s face.  
“That’s awesome!” he said, trying not to sound too excited. He didn’t want to disturb other patients.  
Cas was fully awake now.  
“I will be back in a few hours to check up on him again,” the doctor said, replacing the clipboard on the bed and exiting the room.  
“What’s going on?” Cas asked, confused.  
“He’s getting better. Doc says he might pull through.”  
Cas nodded, smiling a little.  
“I’m going down to get some coffee. You want anything?”  
Cas shook his head. “I’m an angel –“ he started, but then stopped when he remembered that he was no longer a celestial being. He closed his mouth and furrowed his brow. He settled for a simple “no, thank you,” and let Sam go, leaving him there alone with Dean’s sleeping body.  
“Dean, he said you’re getting better.” Cas smiled. “Now all you have to do is wake up.”  
It was another hour or so until Sam had returned. He held two cups of coffee. Taking a sip out of one, he handed the other to Cas.  
“You’re exhausted, Cas. Drink this.”  
“What is it?” Cas asked, sniffing the black liquid in the cup. He winced at the smell.  
“It’s coffee. You’ve never had coffee?”  
“I have never had a need for it,” Cas replied, taking a sip from the cup. The liquid didn’t taste as bad as it had smelled; it was bitter, but not as bad as he thought it would be.  
“Any change?” Sam asked, motioning towards Dean.  
“Not yet,” Cas said. “I know he’ll be okay, though. He has to be okay. The doctor said he’d be okay, and doctors don’t lie, right?”  
“Yeah…” Sam said, almost wishfully. He knew there was the chance that Dean wouldn’t make it out of this alive, yet all of him wanted to believe that Dean would be fine.

-

“I’ll be back in a few hours to check up on him again.”  
“I’m going to get some coffee, you want anything?”  
“No, thank you.”  
Dean’s eyes sprung open again. His headache was completely gone now. He stood up quickly, wincing at pain in his wrist. He looked down and noticed it was badly bruised, along with his other arm and his leg.  
He blinked, confused as to what happened. He looked up, surprised as to who he saw.  
“Cas.” He said quietly. Before Dean had a chance to react to Cas’s presence in the white room, Cas quickly walked up and hugged Dean.  
“It’s good to see you, Dean.”  
Dean was taken aback. He was usually the one doing the hugging, and Cas almost never hugged him in return. Now Cas was doing the hugging. After a couple seconds of initial shock, Dean found himself tightly wrapped in Castiel’s arms, curling the trench coat into his hands and blinking tears from his eyes.  
They both pulled away at the same time, hands still on each other’s shoulders.  
“What the hell’s going on, Cas?” Dean asked. “Where am I?”  
“We are inside your head, Dean.” Cas said. “The demons…”  
“Demons? What demons? Where?” Dean said, going on the defensive.  
“Not here, it’s okay. You don’t remember what happened, do you, Dean?”  
Dean shook his head. Everything was fuzzy.  
“I’ve seen my mom,” Dean said. “And my dad. They were telling me to wake up. And every time they told me to wake up, I’d fall asleep.”  
“You haven’t been awake, Dean.” Cas said. “It’s all in your head.”  
“I heard Sam’s voice…and yours…and another voice, saying they’d be back to check on me again. Why would someone need to check on me, Cas? I’m fine, see?”  
“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas said. “I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t save you. I really need you to be okay, Dean. Please wake up. The doctor said you’d wake up.”  
Dean looked at Cas, confused.  
“What’re you talking about, Cas? Why’s everyone telling me to wake up? I am awake! I’m talking to you!”  
Cas’s image disappeared before Dean, and the faint sound of voices came back into perspective. Dean felt faint again.  
“Here, Cas, you’re exhausted. Drink this.”  
“Sam…” Dean uttered, before falling into a deep sleep.

-

Dean’s eyes fluttered open. He wasn’t in the white room anymore, but he was now in a hospital room.  
He moved his eyes around, examining his surroundings. Sam and Cas were both asleep, Sam on the tiny couch, and Cas in the chair next to Dean’s bed. The only light in the room was that spilling in from the hallway outside the open door, but it was enough for Dean to see what he needed to see.  
Dean sat up a little. It was hard – every part of his body was in severe pain. When he moved, he winced and let out a small whimper, waking Cas.  
“Cas?” Dean said softly.  
“Dean!” Cas said. Dean’s voice jolted Cas completely awake, and he jumped from his chair. He shook Sam awake.  
“What the hell?” Sam said, slightly annoyed. He noticed that Cas was excited about something, so he rolled off the too-small couch and stood up.  
“Dean,” Sam said breathily. “You’re awake!” Sam ran out the door – probably telling a nurse or something.  
“How long was I out?”  
“Four days,” Cas said. “I dunno if you remember anything, but…”  
“Demons. I remember demons. And glass. And that’s it.”  
“We were talking, right before everything happened,” Cas said. “I was telling you that –“  
Sam came back into the room, being trailed by a doctor and a team of nurses, all asking Dean questions all at once. One nurse put a bag on the IV, another elevated the back of the bed so Dean could sit up comfortably, and another proceeded to change the bandage around Dean’s head.  
It took about twenty minutes of questions and chaos, but eventually the doctor and nurses left the room. They were obviously satisfied with what they saw, and the doctor said he’s be back in a while to check on him. Sam left the room, too, getting the feeling that Cas wanted to talk to Dean alone.  
“I was telling you, before everything happened, that I fell from heaven.”  
“You what?!” Dean was taken aback. “Why? What happened?”  
“I don’t want to go back there, Dean. I caused so much trouble and so much devastation, and I just don’t think I would be able to handle going back. So I fell, of my own accord.”  
Dean gave what he could of a nod. “How did you manage those demons then?” he asked.  
“I used the rest of my grace to kill them. They were going to kill you, and I couldn’t let that happen. I…” Cas’s voice trailed off. How was he supposed to tell Dean that he was the one person that he cared for and loved most in the world? How could he tell Dean, who had just come out of a coma, that he probably would have killed himself if he had lost him? How could he tell Dean that this was probably all his fault?  
“None of this is your fault, Cas,” Dean said softly, reaching out to take Cas’s hand. He found that he couldn’t, though, because his hand was being restricted by a cast.  
Cas was startled when Dean said this. It was as if Dean could read his mind. Cas wondered how many other thoughts else Dean heard, and then shook his head. Dean couldn’t read minds.  
“I mean it, Cas. You did everything you could. Thank you.”  
Cas nodded. He didn’t want to speak. He could feel the tears stinging the backs of his eyes and the lump in his throat. He was about to start sobbing, and he didn’t want Dean to see him cry. He put his head down, and tears fell from his eyes and hit his trench coat. Dean knew Cas was crying, but he had no idea how to comfort him.  
“How do you comfort a fallen angel?” Dean thought to himself. Cas had never cried in front of Dean. Actually, Dean didn’t think Cas had ever cried before at all.  
“Cas, it’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay. Together. We’re okay.”  
Dean’s voice was soft and gentle, which was so out of character for him when he was around Sam and Cas. It was comforting, and Cas looked up at Dean’s swollen face.  
“I know we are. We’re okay,” he said with a small smile. He wiped the stray tears from his face. “I wasn’t even thinking about us, actually, it’s just the whole situation…”  
“I know,” Dean said.  
“I’m not used to being sad, angels don’t have emotions. So the sudden feeling is overwhelming and crushing. It’s like being suffocated.”  
Dean was familiar with this feeling. He had been depressed before, he’d been in a stupor he couldn’t shake off, and he had cried himself to sleep on more than one occasion. The most he could do for Cas right now was kill him with understanding.  
Sam returned to the room an hour later. He found Cas asleep on the couch and Dean focused on some soap opera on the hospital television.  
“Dr. Sexy’s on,” Dean said, smiling as much as his swollen face would allow him to. “Gotta love hospital TV.”  
Sam laughed. It was good to see Dean was kind of back to his old self.


	3. Chapter 3

“How much longer do I have to stay in this hell hole?” Dean asked his doctor, taking the pills being handed to him. He threw them in his mouth and took a gulp of water, swallowing all ten of them in one swig.  
“Until you’re healthy enough to leave,” the doctor said. “Right now, you could fall back into a coma at any minute, and we need to monitor you until we’re sure that you’ll be okay to leave.”  
“That’s dumb,” Dean said under his breath. Sam found it unnerving that Dean wasn’t taking his health situation seriously. Dean could literally die at any moment in time, and he’s making jokes about being in the hospital.  
“All good for now,” the doctor said. “I’ll be back later to – “  
“Yeah, yeah, check up on me, I know the drill.”  
The doctor smiled. He hung the clip board on the end of Dean’s bed and walked out of the room.  
“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked, noticing that he wasn’t in the room.  
“Still getting used to having to empty his bladder,” Sam said.  
“So in other words, he’s talking a shit,” Dean sneered.  
“Yeah.” Sam chuckled. “When you put it that way.”  
“Did you have to tell him how?”  
“Oh, yeah. Thank God he didn’t want me to show him how.”  
Dean let out a laugh, but then whimpered. “Don’t make jokes around me, man. It hurts.”  
Sam chuckled, then sighed. It was good to have Dean back.  
“I bet you were sure that Death was gonna have me,” Dean said. “Well, little brother, you were wrong. I’ve dealt with that son of a bitch. He’s tried to take me hundreds of times, apparently. He’ll never catch me alive…”  
“That’s kind of the point, Dean. He’s Death. He doesn’t want you alive.”  
“Oh. Right.” Dean sat back and thought about what he’d just said. “He’ll never take me dead, either.”  
Sam laughed, taking his laptop out of his duffle and opening it.  
Thump.  
Dean’s head hit his pillow hard. He was asleep; Sam rolled his eyes.  
“You just woke up, now you’re gonna sleep some more?” he thought. Whatever. At least he was alive.  
Cas came back into the room, looking exhausted.  
“Man,” Sam said. “Who knew taking a shit could be so much work? Are you okay?”  
Cas didn’t say anything – just nodded. Sam chuckled, closing his laptop and getting out of his seat.  
“I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want anything?”  
Cas started to say no, but then his stomach growled at the thought of food. He furrowed his brows in confusion, not knowing what the strange feeling was. He figured it was hunger.  
“A…burger sounds really good,” Cas said, “but I have no idea why. Do you think it’s famine again? Do you feel this way?”  
“It’s called hunger, Cas. I’ll get you something. I’ll get Dean a burger, too, for when he wakes up.”  
Cas nodded, and Sam walked out, leaving Cas alone with a sleeping Dean.

-

Dean’s eyes opened. He was no longer in his hospital room.  
He was back in the white room.  
"What the hell?’ Dean thought. He had woken up. He was conscious. So why was he back here?  
“Look what the cat dragged in.”  
A voice, coming from behind him, British and raspy.  
“Crowley,” Dean growled. He turned around and started towards Crowley, hands balled into fists. "What the hell are you doing here?"  
“What the hell did you do to me, you bastard?” Dean yelled. “I was awake! I was alive!” He paused. “Did you kill me?”  
“Not in the least. You’re just asleep, though I’m afraid your life won’t last much longer. Oh, wait, I’m not afraid. I’m actually quite enjoying this.”  
“You’re an ass,” Dean said. “Let me wake up!”  
Dean ran at Crowley, swinging at him to hit him. Crowley disappeared, making the force from Dean’s attempted punch pull him to the ground. Dean landed face-first on the floor.  
“Nice try. You should know by now, Dean. You can’t hurt me. Neither can your moose. And now, by the looks of it, neither can your angel. Or should I just call him Cas, since, well, you know…”  
Dean got up and turned to face Crowley.  
“Wake me up. Now,” he demanded. Crowley, instead of responding, just disappeared.

-  
Dean woke up screaming Crowley’s name. Not a scared scream, but an angry scream. Dean was really mad. He woke up sitting up in his bed, breathing hard, with tears in his eyes. It took him a couple of minutes to realize where he was, and who was there.  
He was really awake now; he was in his hospital room, and Cas was sitting in the chair next to his bed reading a knitting magazine that he’d found in the waiting room.  
Dean looked around, still breathing hard. Cas looked up at him from his magazine, cocking his head to the side and squinting at Dean.  
“What happened?” Cas asked him.  
“Nothing,” Dean answered, still breathing hard. The machine measuring his heartbeat was beeping fast, indicating that his heart rate was very high.  
“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked, looking around and noticing his brother was not in the room.  
“He went to get food,” Cas said. “He said he’d get you something too, for when you woke up.”  
“I’m not eating any more of the shit from the cafeteria,” Dean said. “I don’t see how they can make these people live on a diet like that while they’re here. It’s cruel and unusual punishment, which – “  
“He went to get burgers,” Cas said, cutting Dean off.  
“Oh, thank you, Sammy!” Dean said excitedly. “Haven’t had me a good burger in a while.”  
“You had one last week,” Cas said.  
“Last week is too long ago, Cas.”  
“Oh. Dean, why do people read about the practice of ‘knitting?’” Cas asked, showing Dean a picture out of the magazine he was reading. “This magazine is not interesting.”  
Dean just laughed, knowing it would come to no avail to try and explain knitting to Cas.   
Dean found himself thinking about the dream he'd had - about what Crowley had said.  
“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, his voice suddenly solemn. Cas noticed the change in Dean’s voice and he closed his magazine, giving Dean his full attention.  
“Do you think I’ll pull through?” he asked. The question made Cas sad. He knew Dean didn’t have a lot of faith in himself, and now, he had no one to have faith in. It made Cas sad, thinking about such a strong man having no faith in anything.  
“Yes, Dean. I believe you will.” Cas said. “Sam does, too, and your doctor says you’re getting better…”  
“I asked if you think I would, Cas.”  
“And I said yes.”  
“But is that the truth?”  
Cas opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again. Dean wanted the truth, but Cas wasn’t sure if he was able to handle it himself, and he didn’t really want to see Dean’s reaction to what he thought.  
“That’s what I thought,” Dean said, looking down at the casts on his arms. He looked back up, turning and facing out the window. He was on the verge of tears and didn’t want Cas to see him cry.

-

Sam walked back in, quickly shutting the door behind him.  
“I got burgers, fries, and milkshakes for us. But I had to sneak them past the hospital security and the army of nurses, so eat quick, no outside food aloud.”  
“Thanks, Sam,” Dean said, taking the burger, fries, and drink being handed to him. He opened the burger and started scarfing it down, one huge bite after another.  
“By eat quickly, I didn’t mean ‘eat so fast you can’t breathe,’” Sam said, looking at his brother with disgust. He looked over at Cas, who was eyeing Sam’s still-whole burger.  
“Are you going to eat that?” he asked nervously.  
“Where’s yours? I just handed it to you.”  
“I ate it already.”  
“Yes, I am going to eat this.” Sam took a bite, and Cas’s face dropped in disappointment.  
“I’m tired,” Dean said suddenly. Sam and Cas looked at him, both wondering how Dean can still be tired after being in a coma for four days.  
“Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep without finishing your lunch. I went through a lot to get it in here, you know,” Sam said, almost sternly.  
Dean dropped his burger into his lap and his head rolled back, his head resting on his right shoulder. His eyes rolled back into his head, and the machines measuring his vitals started going crazy. His heart rate was dangerously high and he was having trouble breathing.  
“Dean!” Sam yelled, tossing his burger back into the bag and running for the door.  
Cas stood up, not knowing what to do, but he was obviously freaking out. Before, if this situation were to prevail, Cas would just heal Dean. Now, he could do nothing, and he felt helpless.  
“We need help in here!” he yelled at anyone who would listen. Five nurses came running, hearing the sound from the machines in Dean’s room, and another called Dean’s doctor over the intercom. Sam and Cas were kicked out of the room as the team of medical personnel tried desperately to revive Dean.

-

“DEAN!”  
“What’s going on?”  
“Don’t you dare leave now, you son of a bitch.”  
‘No, no, no, this can’t happen,’ Dean thought. ‘I have so much left to do, I can’t leave Sammy…and Cas. I don’t want to leave Cas. GOD DAMNIT DON’T LET ME DIE.’  
Dean’s eyes jerked awake, and he grabbed at his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He looked around in a panic, looking for anyone who might be able to help. He noticed he was back in the white room, only this time, there was no one else there.  
“Help –“ Dean choked, trying to intake breath. He couldn’t. He was suffocating.  
He started feeling thumps on his chest. Someone was doing CPR, he knew it.  
“CLEAR!”  
An electric current ripped through Dean’s body. He seized for a moment, until it stopped, then fell to the ground. He still couldn’t breathe.  
“CLEAR!”  
Another current. Dean seized again. There was foamy spit coming out of his mouth. He tried grabbing back at his throat. He still wasn’t breathing.  
“CLEAR!”  
Dean seized again. The current made him black out. He didn’t even feel as if he were falling asleep; everything around him just vanished, yet he was still alert. And he still couldn’t breathe.  
“CLEAR!”  
Another current ran through him. He jolted and shook with it. Still no breath could be drawn to his burning lungs. All alertness left him, and he stopped moving altogether.  
“There’s nothing else we can do…”

-


	4. Chapter 4

“There’s nothing else we can do…” Dean’s doctor said sadly. The machine measuring Dean’s heart rate was flat-lined. Dean was gone.  
“Time of death --” a nurse checked her watch. “—4:32 p.m on April 3.”  
“I’ll go out and tell his brother,” Dean’s doctor said. “Pack up the things we used. We’ll let them have a final goodbye.”  
Outside the room, Sam heard the constant sound of the heart monitor. He knew what it meant. His brother was gone.  
“What’s going on?” Cas asked, sounding sad. “What’s happening?”  
“Cas…”  
“What happened?”  
“He’s gone.”  
Sam was trying so hard to hold back his tears. They were stinging at the backs of his eyes, begging to be let free, but Sam wouldn’t let them. Not here, in the middle of the hallway, anyways.  
Cas, on the other hand, wasn’t that strong. He backed up against the wall behind him, let out a sob, and slid down the wall until he was seated on the floor. He hugged his knees to him and put his head down, quietly letting out choked sobs, his body shaking with each one.   
Dean’s doctor emerged from the room slowly, trying to think of the best way to explain that there was nothing more they could have done. He looked up at Sam, then down at Cas, and realized that he didn’t have to explain anything – they already knew.  
“I am so sorry…” he said. Sam gave a small nod, shaking his hand, and the doctor walked off, trying to hide the fact that he was wiping away a tear as he turned his back.  
Sam crouched down next to Cas, rubbing the man’s back, trying to comfort him.  
“Come on, man. Let’s go say goodbye before they take him away.”  
Cas looked up at Sam and nodded a silent “okay” and got up. He let Sam walk into Dean’s room first; he was almost afraid to go in. He didn’t know what he should expect to see when he walked in.   
Dean looked exactly as he had a few days ago; he looked like he was sleeping. He looked peaceful, even though Sam and Cas both knew that Dean’s death was everything but peaceful. Even still, Dean looked the part, and if it made them feel better, they could believe what they wanted.   
Cas walked in slowly, approaching Dean’s bed on the opposite side to which Sam was standing. He sat down in the chair; he was afraid he was going to pass out. He had never been so sad before, and since it was still new to him, it was suffocating him. He felt he was guilty, like he should have been there to protect Dean, but instead he let him get mauled. Cas carried the guilt like a thousand bricks, especially now that Dean was gone.  
He scooted the chair closer to Dean’s bed and lay his head there, encompassing one of Dean’s hands in both of his own. His hand was still warm. Cas knew it was just residual warmth, but it was still a sign of life – something to hold on to.  
Sam looked down at Dean. He couldn’t believe Dean was gone – and really gone this time. There was no coming back from this, not unless someone else made another stupid deal and sold their own life. That seemed to be the Winchester way, and Sam was sure he could find someone to work something out with, even though he was sure that his soul wasn’t worth saving Dean. No demon would go for it, and no angel would want to help, either.  
Sam let out a shaky sigh, tilting his head back and blinking away an amassment of tears. He was sure he was going to break down soon, but he wanted so badly to be strong, if anything, for Cas. Dean would want for Sam to be strong for Cas. Sam knew the way Dean felt about Cas, and the way Cas felt about Dean. They tried so hard to keep it secret, hidden from Sam and the rest of the world, but it was so obvious. They were in love, so deeply in love, and it was so beautiful. Dean felt for Cas the way Sam had felt for Jess, and Sam admired Dean for that. His brother had finally found love, and Sam was happy for him.  
So, Sam needed to be strong for Cas -- for his brother’s true love. He walked over and sat down on the couch, leaning over with his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his fists. He let a few tears stream down his face. They were warm and wet, and salty when they touched his lips. He unfisted one of his hands and wiped at his face vigorously, trying to keep his composure. He watched Cas, who was sobbing quietly into Dean’s bed sheets, whispering hushed apologies and words of love to Dean’s body, as if hoping that a part of Dean could still hear him, and would wake back up. It saddened Sam to see Cas so upset. It just added to his already-smothering depression, making him feel as if his head were about to explode. He already felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head from the pressure of the tears behind them, but now, everything felt like a dilusion. A big, sick, cruel joke. That’s what this was. It had to be. It reminded Sam of something Gabriel would do. He’s killed Dean as a joke before, what would stop him from doing it again?   
And then Sam remembered: Gabriel was dead, too.   
That thought was it for Sam. He broke down, letting out a loud, choked sob. Cas looked at him through his own tears, but stayed where he was. He didn’t want to let go of Dean’s hand. He didn’t want the warmth to leave Dean’s body, and right now, wrapping Dean’s hand in his own was preserving that heat. He simply looked at Sam compassionately for a minute, and then laid his head back down on Dean’s bed, closing his eyes, as if to block out the world.

-

Dean’s doctor had been outside Dean’s room for about an hour watching Sam and Cas. He, of all people, knew what tragedy the two men were going through. Dean and Sam were obviously very close as brothers, and Dean was obviously very close with that other man, too. The doctor understood. He had lost his brother to a drunk driver ten years back, and he sympathized with the two men in the room.  
Eventually, the doctor had to walk in on them. Sam stood up, furiously wiping away what tears he could. He gave up when they kept coming, and he couldn’t wipe them fast enough. He wanted so badly to be brave for his big brother -- the man who had raised him and taught him and given him love and compassion for his whole life – but was finding that a difficult feat.  
“I am very sorry for your loss,” the doctor said. “I know this is very hard, but I am going to have to take Dean’s body out of here now. We need to clear the room for another patient.”  
Sam nodded, still wiping at his tears.  
“No, man, we get it. We’ll just get our stuff and go.”  
The doctor nodded. He reached his hand out. Sam grabbed it firmly, shaking it.  
“Thanks, doc,” Sam said. “You’ve been great.”  
“I just wish there had been more we could have done.”  
“Yeah,” Sam said. “So do we.”  
The doctor walked out of the room, and Sam started packing up his things.   
“We need to go, Cas,” he told the former angel. “Doc needs to clear the room.”  
“I can’t leave him, Sam. I’ve abandoned him too many times. I’m not going to just leave him here, all alone.”  
“Cas, he’s not alone. Wherever he is, he’s with people he loves. My mom and dad, Jo, Ellen, and Ash…They’ve probably thrown him a huge welcome home party by now. It’s time to go.”  
Cas looked down at Dean’s lifeless body. He let out a quiet sob, leaned down, and kissed Dean’s forehead.  
“I’m sorry, Dean. I know you weren’t mad at me, but I hope that one day, you will find it in you to forgive me. You know, for not protecting you like I know I should have...”

-

The funeral was small. It was a hunter’s funeral – Dean deserved that. It was just Sam, Cas, Bobby. Cas cried as Sam and Bobby hauled the limp body up onto the pyre Bobby had built. Sam poured the holy water, followed by a gallon of gasoline, and Bobby scattered salt on top of it. Sam took out the lighter that Dean had when he died and flicked it open, clicking it a couple times to get a flame. He held it there for a second, taking in deep breaths and doing his best to hold himself together.   
Finally, he took a shaky breath and threw the lighter onto the pyre and watched it catch fire. The rising flames burned against their faces as they watched the fire dance through tear-filled eyes.   
It took a few hours for Dean’s body to completely burn. Sam and Bobby ended up leaving once the flames started dying out, but Castiel stayed. He felt it might give him some closure, to watch over Dean until he was completely gone. He would never be able to forgive himself if he left. Sam watched Cas sadly from Bobby’s kitchen window, knowing that none of them would probably ever be the same again.


End file.
